


getcha head in the game

by Combeferre



Series: back to witches and wizards [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Quidditch fic, courfeyrac is a master prankster, pining!jolras, ravenclaw characters, silly boys kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combeferre/pseuds/Combeferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire/Enjolras idiot!fic<br/>Miscommunications and Quidditch. What's not to love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	getcha head in the game

"JESUS CHRIST, GUYS!"

"And, he's found it," Courfeyrac said smugly, adjusting his blue and silver tie as the sound of thumping footsteps sounded above them. "Told you he would."

"I still can't believe you put a rotten fish in Enjolras' trunk. _Enjolras,_ man. What were you thinking?" Combeferre buried his face in his hands.

"I was thinking of our collective amusement." Enjolras finally came clattering down the stone steps from the fifth-year dormitory, his face bright red. "And, impact in three, two, one..."

Enjolras came marching up to them, holding the fish out in front of him like it was...well, a rotten fish. "Courfeyrac, was this you?"

"It wasn't just me!" The dark-haired boy raised his hands. "Marius helped."

"Pontmercy!" Enjolras yelled, his face thunderous, as a thin boy tripped trying to escape out of the common-room door.

"You traitor, Courfeyrac!" Marius yelled back as he slammed the door shut behind him. Enjolras turned back to Courfeyrac.

"This wasn't funny. I've a good mind to report you to Professor Flitwick." Enjolras strode over to the window and dumped the offending fish outside. "Ew,"

"Jesus, no! Not Flitwick!" Courfeyrac yelled, with good reason - Enjolras was a favourite student of the charms professor, who was known to be devilishly good at throwing sneaky Bat-Bogey hexes at students who upset his favourites and at giving chocolate to the one who had been offended. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just don't hurt me."

"Done. But you can do my Potions homework for me while I'm at Quidditch practise." Enjolras, while being completely infallible at Charms, revolution and Quidditch, was notoriously terrible at Potions, while Courfeyrac was the best in their class.

Courfeyrac groaned. "Fine. Are you two off then?" Combeferre and Enjolras were the Keeper and Chaser on the Ravenclaw team.

"Yep." Combeferre stood up, picking up a bag which evidently contained his sapphire robes, while Enjolras was already dressed in his. "See you in a bit."

"Bye," Courfeyrac said weakly, pulling a piece of parchement towards him. "I'll see you later." The two tall boys nodded and exited the common room, letting Grantaire in as they went. The dark haired boy went racing up to the dormitories, coming down dressed haphazardly in his Quidditch robes and carrying his crappy old Comet 260 under one arm.

"Fucking door kept me out for about twenty minutes," he said conversationally to Courfeyrac, who was still gazing on in amusement. "I've never heard the riddle before." He mimicked the door's deep voice sarcastically. " _Twenty white horses on a red hill, first they champ, then they stamp, and then they stand still."_ What the hell even is that?"

"It's from _The Hobbit,_ you nutter," Courfeyrac replied. "Have you never read it?" Being a muggle-born, he had a stash of Muggle books in his trunk, including the complete works of JRR Tolkein,

"No, because I was brought up with _Babbity Rabbity_ rather than that weird-ass stuff. Hobbits?" he muttered, striding out of the door.

"Try not to antagonise Enjolras!" Courfeyrac called after him helpfully. "He's in a shitty mood today."

"And who's fault is that?" Grantaire yelled back.

"Mine. And Marius'." The door shut behind Grantaire and Courfeyrac settled back into the old leather chair that he'd claimed on his very first week. Nowadays, all it took was a glare in the right direction, and whichever first-year was in it would move immediately. The older students knew better than to defy Enjolras' friend.

Out on the pitch, Combeferre and Enjolras joined the group of players who were chatting on the centre line.

"Is everyone here?" Enjolras asked, surveying the group quickly. "Cosette, Jaspar, Dean - where's Grantaire?"

"There." His twin sister and fellow chaser, Cosette, pointed towards the other side of the pitch, where a dark-haired boy in dishevelled robes was sprinting towards them.

"Oh, for God's sake." Enjolras muttered to himself. "Come on, Grantaire!"

The seeker joined them, panting. "Sorry I'm late. The damn common room locked me out."

"Don't blame the common-room for your inadequacies," Enjolras said angrily. "I'll see you in the changing rooms after. This is the fifth time this month you've been late."

Grantaire looked at the floor, his face burning in shame. "I'm sorry."

"You will be." Enjolras looked around at the rest of the team. "Right. Up in the air. We're going to work on the set pieces we did last week." As he kicked off and rose into the air, Enjolras thought. It would be immensely difficult to find a seeker as good as Grantaire.

When the session had ended, he walked into the changing room to find that the rest of the team had evaporated, leaving Grantaire, who had stripped out of his robes and was in a sapphire jumper that enhanced the blue of his eyes.

As soon as Enjolras walked in, he rose, and said quickly, "Look, it won't happen again and I am so, so sorry, please just give me another chance."

"I can't. Grantaire, I need a seeker who turns up to practise on time. You don't. I need a seeker who actually seems to be dedicated to the team. You aren't."

"I am." Grantaire turned completely white. "Enjolras, please. Don't do this."

"And why the hell shouldn't I?" Enjolras roared. "You've got no passion, no drive. You don't believe in yourself, you don't believe in the team - you - you don't believe in anything!"

"I believe in you!" Grantaire shouted back, standing up so that he was face to face with Enjolras. They were exactly the same height, and stood there, breathing heavily, for a few seconds, before Enjolras gave a groan of frustration and pushed Grantaire against the wall before kissing him fiercely.

"Enjolras?" Grantaire asked weakly, trying his best to resist the blonde. "We can't keep doing this."

"We fucking can and we will." That was all it took for the dark-haired boy to moan into Enjolras' mouth and respond in kind. Their bodies were pressed flush together, Enjolras' hands were on Grantaire's hips and Grantaire's hands were on Enjolras' neck and the whole world rearranged itself as they kissed messily, dirtily, drinking each other in. Finally, Enjolras broke away, panting, his lips sore from Grantaire's five o'clock shadow. "Taire."

"Enjolras." Grantaire clutched at Enjolras for support, his face reflected in those green eyes. "This has to stop. You're the team captain. I'm nothing."

"You're the seeker. You're important. And I'm not firing you." Stepping back, Enjolras freed himself from Grantaire's clutches. "I've got to go."

Grantaire was left, standing there, as he tried to reorientate himself around the fact that Enjolras had just kissed him again and nothing seemed to be progressing.

"You know what?" he said quietly to himself. "Fuck it." Collecting his things, he stuffed them all in a bag and went storming off back up to the castle. When he got past the Ravenclaw door (" _what can you catch but cannot_ _throw_?") he immediately went up to the dormitory, where he found Enjolras bending over his trunk. He tapped the boy on the back.

"Courfeyrac, what -?" Enjolras asked, turning, only for Grantaire to push him up against one of the columns on his four-poster bed and kiss him on the neck. The boy's hips bucked involuntarily, and he just managed to gasp out "Grantaire!-" before the boy was pulling away and staring straight at him. 

"What?" Enjolras asked. "Grantaire - I mean - I didn't think - "

"Well, I do," Grantaire said firmly, "and I need you to at least think about it. Please."

"You're asking me to think about it?" Enjolras smiled. "Grantaire, that's what I want, you fucking idiot. Didn't you realise?"

Grantaire shook his head. "The anger? The shouting?"

"Because I was angry, because I didn't think you wanted to go out! Every time I mentioned it, you'd clam up!"

"Because I was convinced I'd mess it up." A laugh bubbled from Grantaire's lips. "So, you do want to do this?"

"I do." Enjolras dived in for a kiss, clutching the front of Grantaire's robes and confident that he'd never let go.


End file.
